


Waiting Game

by KY Lowell (TachyonStar)



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-10
Updated: 2015-08-10
Packaged: 2018-04-13 22:35:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,464
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4540044
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TachyonStar/pseuds/KY%20Lowell
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the events in the Praetorium, the Warrior waits for Thancred to wake.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Waiting Game

**Author's Note:**

> Fic meme. Yup.
> 
> Written from the point of view of ~my~ WoL, C'taqa Tia, but you can fit any WoL in here.
> 
> This is my first real venture into writing for this fandom. No hurt me.

I've lost track of how long I've been sitting here.

Three days? Four? Everything after escaping the Praetorium is a blur; I can vaguely remember _what_ happened, but it all runs together like ink spilled on parchment, and right now I really have no wish to begin sorting it all out. It would take too much effort, too much energy, and I cannot afford to have my attention diverted from what lies before me now.

(Figuratively and literally, I mean that.)

I shift, a fruitless endeavor to make the splintery chairback stop attempting to give unwanted acupuncture to my spine, keeping my eyes ever fixed on the unmoving form that lies before me.

Three, or four, or however many days before, I carried Thancred's unconscious body from the Praetorium.

He has not yet awakened.

All I can be sure of at the moment is that he lives still. Driving that Twelve-damned Ascian from him may have spared his life, but has it spared anything else? When (if) he wakes, will he know me still? Will he know the others? Will he truly recover? I have seen for myself some of the horrors the Paragons can weave, and though all around me are making it a point to reassure that the worst cannot possibly happen, I cannot believe. Perhaps it's a failing of mine, but not till he opens his eyes and speaks my name will I be reassured, and even in that event, I intend not to let him out of my sight until I can be certain he's truly on the mend.

They think me mad, I'm sure, but not one of them understands.

He and I are, perhaps, both the best and the worst-kept secret amongst the Scions. Few would seek to deny the affection between us, but while neither of us has made any true attempt to hide it, neither have we let on to just how _strong_ it is. It's not that I presume anyone would think any differently of us...if anything, it is an asset, and I feel that alone would be enough to convince any who might stand against it.

Yet at the same time, it is a weakness. As it is now.

My eyes burn with exhausted heat, and I give only the briefest curl of thought to fighting it; giving in is so much easier, letting the silent tears come, tracing faint trails still left whence their predecessors came as I lean forward, taking one of his hands tight between both of mine. At least he is no longer so ghastly cold as when I bore him out of that helltrap, threads of darkness still clinging to his body that our power and Hydaelyn's could not completely destroy. The taint has since faded, and for all intents and purposes he merely _sleeps_ , but--

I cannot help it.

I am terrified. Lost. Alone.

"Please," I whisper to still, uncaring air before I realize I am going to speak at all, squeezing his hand tightly between mine and bowing my head so the relentless tears fall to my lap instead of the bedclothes. "Wake up...please. _Open your eyes--_ " my voice is cracking now, and I am forced to take a moment to breathe, to try to control myself enough that none outside will hear me. It is shameful enough to break even in privacy; I refuse to let anyone see me like this.

"You need to wake up..." For the briefest of seconds, I nearly think his hand has shifted in mine, but it seems to be only an illusion spawned from how tight and trembling my own grasp is. "Because I...I can't do this without you. I can't face them like this...I can't face _myself_...not without you..."

The flow of unbidden words and the crying has made me feel faint, and though it feels far too much like giving up, I close my eyes...just for a moment.

When I open them again, it is to waves of confusion. I'm certain I did not move even an ilm, and yet I am tucked beneath rumpled bedcovers, curled against something warm and unyielding which (as wakefulness begins to creep back to me in fits and starts) I slowly recognize as his slumbering form. How embarrassing...when had I allowed myself to fall asleep? And in his bed besides?

I am not left to wonder long; a gentle tap at the door heralds Minfilia's entry, and she is giving me an amused smile as she enters the room, carrying with her oil to top up the lantern on the wall. "How are you feeling?"

It takes me a moment to realize the question is directed at me, exhausted as I still am, and I feel myself redden faintly. "I...fell asleep?"

She nods, lifts down the lantern to refill it and then lights it with a deft hand, turning to look at me with sympathetic eyes. "I had not the heart to wake you. I hope you don't mind that I had Urianger move you--" which explains, I suppose, how I got into the bed in the first place. "Ah, but while you slept..."

I tense automatically, prepared for the worst, but the worst is not what comes. What does come is a murmur from behind me, bone-tired but still full of playful amusement, unexpected enough that were I a bit more awake, I might have jumped right out of bed. "Would it not be better for _me_ to explain, Minfilia?"

"I suppose it would," she says, covers a smile with her hand and turns to retreat from the room. "Pray excuse me, then."

She is hardly out the door when realization sets fully in, and I nearly _do_ fall to the floor in my haste to turn about, limbs still heavy with drowsiness not responding with the necessary swiftness to make my motions smooth instead of clumsy - it is only an arm wrapped quickly about me that saves me from such an unglorious fate, and I can't even begin to care about how embarrassing this truly is, too busy staring wide-eyed at the sight before me.

He is...awake. Smiling. That familiar, rogueish smile I've come to know so well.

He wants to speak, I'm sure, but I give him no chance - I simply _can't_ , traitorous tears welling up once more, and he chooses understanding silence instead as those tears begin to fall, pulling me against him as I bury my face in the warmth of his shoulder to sob helplessly. It's so embarrassing, _humiliating_ even, but I cannot help but think...if anyone should have to see me at my worst, why not the one person I know wholeheartedly will never judge me for it?

Strangely, that really does make me feel just a little bit better.

Much to my relief, the storm of sobbing quickly passes, and I make haste to dry my wet cheeks on my sleeves, feeling somewhere between annoyed and grateful when he assists with a corner of the bedcovers. Honestly, I am no child, I can do it myself - but even so, it _is_ a pleasant feeling in its own way to let him help me. "I'm...sorry. I was just," I swallow hard, forcing back the last of the urge to cry, putting on a weak and tearsoaked smile. "I just..."

He looks as if he wants to tease me, but refrains - I am strangely gratified that he thinks to be so serious. "I know. You need not apologize."

"But I want to," I say petulantly, and I feel warm when my tone has the intended effect of making him smile. "...Don't ever do that again."

"You make it sound as if I planned every last bit of this." He huffs in mock indignance, wraps his arm tighter about my waist and pulls the covers up around us. "But never mind that. Shall we have a bit more rest?"

Of course - he is still weakened, I remind myself guiltily, but console myself with the fact that I no longer feel the gnawing terror that he might not wake again. "You aren't going to let me say no, are you?"

He chuckles softly, pecks an impulsive kiss to my forehead. "You know me entirely too well. I may have to _do_ something about that."

"Don't you dare," I scold him, but it comes through an unexpected yawn, and I quickly close my eyes so I don't have to see his inevitable look of amusement. "...Just go back to sleep already, if you're only going to tease me."

I don't have to look to know he is biting back another retort, but he obediently settles, shifting agreeably to accommodate me when I curl closer.

And together, we sleep.


End file.
